How Much for Just the Planet? (Star Trek: The Original Series, Book 36)

How Much for Just the Planet? (Star Trek: The Original Series, Book 36)

John M. Ford

Language: English

Pages: 141

ISBN: 0671629980

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Dilithium. In crystalline form, the most valuable mineral in the galaxy. It powers the Federation's starships...and the Klingon Empire's battlecruisers. Now on a small, out-of-the-way planet named Direidi, the greatest fortune in dilithium crystals ever seen has been found.

Under the terms of the Organian Peace Treaty, the planet will go to the side best able to develop the planet and its resourses. Each side will contest the prize with the prime of its fleet. For the Federation -- Captain James T. Kirk and the Starship Enterprise. For the Klingons -- Captain Kaden vestai-Oparai and the Fire Blossom.

Only the Direidians are writing their own script for this contest -- script that propels the crew of the Starship Enterprise into their strangest adventure yet!

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I know Rik told you to kneel, and when Rik talks, people hear it. Deaf people hear it. So what’s the difficulty?” Memeth grumbled dangerously. McCoy gestured at the Klingons, said, “You see, ma’am, these two gentlemen already have a dictator, it’s against Mr. Sulu’s religion … and I’m a Democrat.” The queen tapped a long-nailed hand on her bare knee. She began to laugh. The bearded man, Rik, raised his bronze staff, and the troopers began to laugh as well, until the whole chamber was ringing.

deep in something difficult.” “I am here,” Chekov said. He was carrying a worn leather bag filled with hickory-shafted clubs and wore baggy plus-four trousers bloused above the ankles and a floppy red-plaid tam o’shanter with a huge crimson pompom. “Now where,” Scott said, “did ye get that outfit?” “When the clubs were beamed down, there was a slight coordinate error,” Chekov said. “And a large puddle of mud. The hotel laundry—” Scott was examining the golf bag. “They seem all right.” “Thank

“Carefully,” Maglus said. Askade was idly turning his fork over in his hands. “All we need this morning is a visit from the Org—” He put the fork down, pushed it away. “We’re coming, Proke,” Arizhel told the intercom. “Aye, Commander. We’ll look sharp from the bow.” The officers looked at each other, with expressions from bemused to grim. “That youth was raised wrong,” Askade said, and they dumped their trays and headed for the bridge. Aboard Jefferson Randolph Smith, Captain Trofimov

tumbled out of the closet. Orvy said, “All right, Thed—” “Macmain.” “Okay, Macmain. What are we going to do now?” Thed hopped out of the pod onto the deck, landing in a modest approximation of a combat crouch. “We’re in the Empire’s treasury, under their very noses. What do you think we’re going to do?” Orvy sighed and climbed out. “Very well. But before we get to the jewel vaults and the secret plans, could we steal a sandwich?” Spock examined the reentry-scorched pod which was still

bandoliers. Was the cummerbund originally a knife-holder, or a piece of body armor, or a sash of office in the Klingon fashion? The Direidi had provided Kaden with an appropriate gold lamé one. Kaden decided he respected the locals. They displayed efficiency; their servitors worked well. Their customs were odd, but no odder than most humans exhibited. And the plan of the Direidi Peet blak-Wood, to win enough honor to take his companion by right, that was cunning indeed. Wars of line-succession

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